


Alpha

by bishorn



Series: Omega [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Boypussy, Breeding, Consent Issues, Emotional Manipulation, Implied Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Knotting, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 05:51:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1887342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bishorn/pseuds/bishorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were all a little too complacent after the months of relative peace. No hunter clans, no were-whatevers beyond what was already present, no supernatural forces that had to be dealt with.</p><p>Of course, nothing in Beacon Hills ever stayed good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry, Stiles. One more part to go in the series.

They were all a little too complacent after the months of relative peace. No hunter clans, no were-whatevers beyond what was already present, no supernatural forces that had to be dealt with.

Of course, nothing in Beacon Hills stays good.

Scott was attacked last week and still in a wolfsbane induced coma, with long claw stripes going down his chest. Deaton’s diagnosis was a rare strain of wolfsbane that numbed all the senses, paralyzing him slowly until he couldn’t breathe, until his heart just stopped beating. 

Malia, who was with him when he was attacked, sobbed and cried with guilty flashing blue eyes that it was a wolf, or at least some giant shapeshifter with a grotesque vaguely humanoid shape that attacked them. Deaton’s grim frown sent the pack on high alert.

Derek, acting Alpha, ordered Lydia to wander town with Kira as her guard to look for any clues of death or any impending attack. Peter, Derek, and Malia were taking turns monitoring the borders for any scents of new wolves. And Stiles was stuck sitting twiddling his thumbs by Scott’s side, praying to whatever deity that exists to save his brother.

When Scott’s heartbeat started dipping below what a tortoise might find healthy, Stiles picked up his bat and headed out. He wasn’t really quite sure what it was that he found, or that found him, really. And honestly, he has the worst luck ever, if the other two wolves and coyote hadn’t found anything in days and it took him all of five minutes to get ambushed by this hulk of a thing.

Luckily, it took far less than that amount of time for Peter, of all people, to find him, and bite out the thing’s throat, spraying blood all over the two of them. It morphed back into a human shape as it gurgled out blood out its throat and mouth.

Peter turned around, looking like his former psychotic self, with the blood painting his face and body. He narrowed his eyes.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Uh, trying to help?” Stiles muttered. “I can defend myself. I’ve got wolfsbane on me.”

“And what if it wasn’t a wolf? What if it was like the oni, or the kanima? They aren’t affected by wolfsbane,” Peter growled. “What would you have done then? Wave your bat around until they crumpled it up and ate you?”

Stiles flushed. “Okay, I admit this wasn’t my best thought out plan, but Scott is dying! I’m getting frustrated doing nothing.”

“Just,” Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair. He looked for the right words while Stiles glared defiantly. He repeated, “Just stay out of trouble and make sure that when Scott gets better, you’re not the next one he has to save.”

Stiles’s grip on his bat loosened in surprise. All of a sudden, he felt like a little kid, wholly and completely stupid.

\--

The dead wolf was the only scent they picked up and the way the rest of foreign pack was avoiding confrontation, it wasn't unlikely they were coming for Stiles next.

"What if there was only just the one?" Malia had questioned. “Peter took him down, we’re waiting on the wolfsbane, and that’ll be that.”

Lydia shook her head. "Peter took him down too easily. If he managed to get Scott in this condition, whoever attacked him was probably an Alpha. If not, he still should be better than to be taken down because of a surprise attack. And the wolfsbane in his wounds indicate this was probably premediated. If you can't pick up new scents it means they were here for a while.”

She paused as she mulled it over. “Considering it took the wolf about 2 minutes to find Stiles and you guys have been out for the past two weeks looking for the pack, they might have been waiting for a time to corner Stiles alone.” 

Thy grimly turned to Stiles. Lydia continued. "Out of five supernatural beings that can actually fight, Kira and Malia are already dead on their feet keeping up with this and school and Mrs. Yukimura needs to keep up appearances during the day. We need someone to keep an eye on Scott and one on Stiles and one to try to find out who this pack is. If they're avoiding you guys, they might not attack Stiles if you're there so whoever is out scouting during the day rest with Stiles and we can alternate to give you enough rest."

Derek looked at Lydia before glancing at Kira and Malia, "That means..."

Lydia gave a grimace, "I know. And trust me if we had one more person, Peter'd never get close to him. But Kira and Malia are already almost failing everything and they're exhausted, and so are you. You won't be able to defend yourself at this rate."

Kira spoke up, glancing between the pack’s dark looks and Stile’s jittery heart. “Wait, no, hold up. What’s happening? I’m sure we can work around whatever issue this is.”

“It’s not that simple. There’s a whole mess of history going on here, and it’s not my place to say it,” Lydia sighed. 

Stiles shook his head roughly, “It’s not that big of a deal. Don’t worry about me.”

Derek turned to Stiles. “Keep mountain ash and your phone on you at all times. Keep one of us on speed dial and don’t let him get away with any shit.”

“I know, I know. Trust me, I’m the last one that wants anything to happen,” Stiles looked up at Peter and grimaced. Peter returned it with his own and a sigh.

\--

"Oh just spit it out already. Malia and Kira aren't even at school, if it's something for me just say it or stop looking like you're constipated." Lydia rolled her eyes.

Stiles protested, "I do not!"

Lydia pointedly ignored him in favor of texting on her phone.

“I think Peter really does care about me.” Stiles groaned.

Lydia turned and raised her eyebrow. “You’re being ridiculous. He’s a zombie werewolf that killed his own niece to get Alpha power and was only a couple arrowheads away from killing you, Scott, and Derek.” 

“Everything you’ve just said refers to pre-zombie Peter. Maybe death changed him. It probably would do that to a man.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, “Yes. But that change usually refers to making said zombie dangerous, human-flesh eating, mindless killing monsters. Which Peter was to begin with. Now are you going to stop being ridiculous and tell me what’s up?”

Stiles fell quiet and sighed against the cafeteria table. “Fine. I care about him then.”

She whipped around to squint at him. “If you’re going where I think you’re going with this, you’re going to end up in an abusive relationship where Peter’s going to hurt you and rape you and then apologize and send you flowers or dead bunnies and rinse and repeat.” 

Stiles shrugged helplessly, “He’s been helpful to the pack. He’s been making sure I get home safely. He keeps me up to date about everything that’s happening. He’s been considerate and hasn’t done anything ungentlemanly. It’s charming. He’s charming. He brings me curly fries after school and makes sure my dad doesn’t eat any crap.”

Lydia pursed her lips. “He’s been trying to redeem himself for all the terrible things he did, like rape you. By allowing him to walk you home, you're enabling him where he normally would have stalk you first before attempting to rape you. He’s been trying to prevent you from killing yourself, like Derek told everyone to under Alpha orders. And he’s trying to get into your good graces so you’ll just swoon onto his open claws and he won’t even have to rape you to claim you. And did I mention, he raped you before? That is not a man curly fries are worth.”

Stiles glowered but slumped. “Doesn’t change that it’s actually working. A year and a half of saving each other's lives makes me kind of like him. I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s changed.”

“Notice how you sound like the abused boyfriend? Maybe it’s the claim mark talking. It's not like there’s much research done about mates who’ve come back to life. Your body’s been going through almost two years, four seasons, of heats without a companion in your most fertile years. Next time ask someone to fuck you instead of trying to get off a toy. It probably wants some.” Lydia shrugged. “It’s almost spring. Mating season always brings great joy and plenty of horny Alphas to fuck.”

“Thanks for making me feel loved,” Stiles scowled. 

“Anytime. Use contraception.” Lydia patted his cheek. “Don’t fall for Peter. Stay away from him even more if you have to. Call me when you see him.”

\--

Stiles tried to follow Lydia’s advice. He really really did. It doesn’t work out that way. The long since faded mark on his neck was tingling and when he looked at himself in the mirror, he imagined how nice it would look, this time willingly received.

When he returned to his room, Peter was there, and Stiles squeaked. 

“You didn’t answer my text. I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Peter stood up and closed the distance between the two.

Stiles, again, squeaked. Flushing, he corrects himself, “Does Derek know you’re here?”

“I warned him I was coming and that if he wasn't busy he should come chaperone me. I told him that you weren’t answering. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Peter reaches out to touch his arm reassuringly. 

Stiles jumps, and feels the warmness of his hand and the way his skin tingles, and Peter drops his arm as quick. 

“You’re jumpy today. Did something happen?”

“Nothing, nothing, nothing at all. Same boring day as always. At least until Scott wakes up. Has Scott woken up?” Stiles lets his mouth run on as he mourns the loss of Peter’s hand. He mentally chastises himself for it and let’s Lydia’s word repeat in his head.

Peter gave a little amused smile, “Deaton doesn’t get back for another few hours. It’s Malia’s night to monitor Scott’s condition, you and the rest of the pack can visit him tomorrow when he’s actually awake.”

“Oh, exciting. I can’t wait,” Stiles swallowed. He stared at Peter and Peter stared back. 

Peter made an aborted motion toward him and Stiles found himself leaning into the nonexistent touch.

Stiles considered his options but there were too many factors and there was just too much going through his head right now. Lydia's words float and the memory of that night surfaces. But then so does the night that Peter suffered wolfsbane poisoning to save him from suffering a bullet to the shoulder, and the way Peter helped him recover from the guilt of the Nogitsune. He gives a little grunt of frustration, clears his mind, and takes the last step forward to press his lips against Peter’s.

It’s soft, and Peter’s lips don’t move against his. He peeks and sees Peter staring at him in wonder. He feels the blood rush to his cheeks and makes a move to turn away, but Peter’s arms are wrapping around him. Wherever Peter touches sparks under the skin and goes directly to his pussy. He flushes as the kiss deepens in time to the big beads of slick leaking out of his cunt.

Peter’s tongue licks at his lips before entering, rubbing against his teeth and sliding against his tongue, and fuck, the taste. It definitely is sweeter than he remembers and he’s getting lost in the way it rolls in his mouth. Peter’s mouth wanders lower and Stiles cranes his neck up as he feels Peter’s tongue and lips and teeth nibble and slide and move against his jaw, against his neck. He moans as he feels them dig in, marking him, claiming him, once again.

Stiles hands are clawing at Peter’s back, and they fall down into a twist of limbs. Peter’s still attacking his neck, and he’s leaking like a faucet. His skin is gliding against the warm wetness in his panties. 

He presses his pussy against Peter's thigh, feeling the electricity at his core, and moans helplessly against it. He grinds down, letting the wetness soak through his sweatpants until there’s a slick damp spot wetting Peter’s jeans, letting his clit rub roughly against his panties and send his hips bucking against Peter’s leg. Peter chuckles into Stiles’s hair hair, urging him on.

His back arches as Peter moves down to his collarbone, biting and sucking the skin until it’s red and marked. Stiles’s hands move down, grappling at Peter’s buckle and jeans, trying to tug them down, making a whine amidst the moans that fill the room.

Peter presses a chaste kiss to Stiles’s chest before leaning back to undo it and pull it out himself. Feeling his mouth water and his pussy drip, Stiles watches as Peter undress him, sliding the shirt off, and tugging his pants down past his ass as he kneels between Peter’s legs. His panties are drenched and Peter palms him through it with a obscene squelch. Peter grabs the front and the back, as he captures Stiles’s jaw in nibbles and kisses. He pulls it so it’s disappeared and hidden in his pussy, the lips are spread either side. It provides rough stimulation to Stiles’s clit and he claws at Peter’s chest. Sliding it back and forth with a delicious combination of hard friction and silky glide, Peter waits for just Stiles’s breath to get shallow, his hips to stutter, his nails to scratch helplessly against Peter’s shoulder before ripping it off. Stiles flops onto Peter weakly, twitching and protesting as it leaves his pussy.

"You asshole. You fucking _tease_ ," Stiles pants, catching his breath as Peter massages his cunt, being a terrible tease and spreading the slick everywhere. He eyes Peter’s cock hungrily and Peter softly encourages him. He offers his fingers, sopping wet with slick, and Stiles obediently sucks them clean.

Stiles licks his lips, “I’ve never done this before.”

Peter strokes his face reassuringly, with a damp hand.. “I know. I don’t care. With you, anything and everything will be amazing.”

Stiles takes as much as he can into his mouth. It’s not much, but Peter at least seems to be enjoying it, moaning into the sensation and Stiles takes the rest into his hand. He hears soft encouragements, “Fuck, yeah just like that.”

He moves his tongue experimentally, sliding it along the length, swirling it at the top, flattening it as he sucks. His fingers focus on the way the organ is underneath the skin, memorizing the patterns, the strokes, that make Peter’s breath hitch and massaging his balls to extract the low, long growl. He licks the head, tasting beads of precum, marveling the way it tastes like honey. 

He spares one hand down and touches himself, circling his own finger around the slick, in the soft, familiar folds. He pushes a finger in, and it’s more intense than he’s ever felt it. It occurs to him how surreal this is. It makes the dick in his mouth seem even larger, makes it taste even sweeter, muskier. The stretch of his mouth seems tighter, snugger, a better fit. He feels the slide of his finger inside of him, stroking him on the inside, his pussy stretching around the finger, wrapping it tight inside.

He makes a strangled little noise that reverberates in his throat and the cock that’s just by it, earning him another breathy, “Shit! Do that again.”

He complies. Fuck, he wants to be able to take that all in, all the way so he’ll be pressed up against Peter, he wants to feel it stretch out his throat until he can’t talk without everyone knowing what he’s been up to.

He gives a final few bobs of the head and suctions, as he notices the base of the dick just start to thicken under his touch and he pulls himself off.

Peter gives a satisfied lazy smile and leans back down as Stiles climbs over and positions himself above Peter. “I’d told you you’d be good. Let me knot you now.”

“Fuck, yeah. I want you to shove that knot in me. I want you to knock me up and make me your omega, and make sure everyone knows,” Stiles hears himself whine. He feels so dizzy, and needs something filling him. It’s almost painful now, the need for a stretch and something to fill in that hole he has. He’s never felt this way outside of heat and he loves how much he _craves_ Peter.

Peter looks up at Stiles’s who looks so eager and fucked. His pupils are blown wide, and lips are slightly swollen, and there’s precum at the corners of his mouth. He’s covered in red marks and hickeys and he’s so fully Peter’s. His gaze falls down to admire the way his pussy is opening itself for cock and how it’s just kissing the head with its lips. 

He can feel the slickness spreading around his cock, dripping down it as it leaks out of Stiles. There’s a supple glide to it, the way it flutters at the top of his dick, anticipating entrance. There’s a steady thumping that’s increasing, and Peter fingers Stiles’s wrist, feeling the blood pump under the skin. “Come on, omega.”

Stiles obeys and gently sinks down. He gasps at the intrusion, arching his back forward and tilting his head back. He falls forward to balance himself, hands splayed across Peter’s chest as he lowers, taking in the entire girth. Peter moans at the heat engulfing him and runs his hands over Stiles's chest and pausing over his belly.

Stiles presses his weight down, adjusting to the stretch and length, wiggling a little to remove the edge.

The easy slide makes it quick for him, and before long, he’s rolling his hips and riding the hell out of Peter’s dick. His hips move in a sensuous pattern, that combines the slickness with friction, and Peter’s grip on them tightens to bruising as he snaps up to meet him. It’s almost uncontrollable, and he may be letting Stiles take the reigns this time but it’s still animalistic, the way the boy’s going. 

There’s a steady stream of obscenities from the omega’s mouth that makes Peter growl in pleasure. “Oh God, fuck, you’re so big, so good, ohhh.”

Peter fingers the nub in front of Stiles, and growls a little at the way the heat tightens around his dick, sending little spurts of precum out. He continues assaulting the nerves and watches the way Stiles twitches with it, uncontrollable. It won’t take long, not now, not like this.

He thrusts up harder, and thinks that there will be a bruise there tomorrow on Stiles’s ass, and he continues with even more force at the thought, to Stiles’s vocal pleasure. 

The swell is already starting, tugging at the tight pussy, spreading his lips obscenely around it. It sends sparks of exquisite pleasure with every movement and it takes all Peter has to keep himself still as Stiles bounces on it. Peter watches it disappear, captured between the hot, soft lips, spreading them as wide as they'll go and clamping down at the base, and reappear, as they open again, exposing the bright red clit and straining against the muscle before tightening back together. It’s glorious and Stiles’s flushes under the intense stare. 

The knot grows steadily larger, and it’s only a couple more thrusts that Peter gladly takes part in, until it gets locked in Stiles. It continues to swell, putting delicious pressure on the both of them. Stiles comes with a gasp and a shudder, reflexively tightening sharply around the expanding knot. It’s the last bit Peter needs to be pushed over the edge, and he starts coming into Stiles’s womb. 

Stiles falls onto him, twitching now and then at the increased fluid inside him. Peter wraps his arms around the boy. Their chests are pressed together, both of them are overstimulated by the knot, and Stiles’s legs fall obscenely around his. Stroking the rim of the boy’s pussy, and feeling the knot pulse through the skin, he absently wonders what the view is. The pussy stretched wide by the knot pressing down against it, red and angry from the fucking it just got and abused this way now. Stiles shudders a little at the extra pulse his dick gives at the thought.

It feels like forever that he’s coming, stimulated intensely by the pressure Stiles’s walls are putting on his knot and dick, the way it frames him so perfectly, pressing down on every vein and every surface and tries to milk him so desperately. He takes Stiles’s mouth into a sweet, deep kiss, exploring everything, the soft walls, the tired way Stiles’s tongue flicks against his, and fuck, now he’s thinking about knotting his omega's mouth.

He’s stops coming with a few weak spurts forced out by Stiles's tight cunt and admires the gentle bulge of Stiles’s belly to account for the semen swimming and pressing up against his insides. He massages the belly, urging the sperm to fertilize, to Stiles's amusement. "I can't wait until you show your pregnancy. Seeing your big belly and knowing that I was the one that put it there. Maybe we'll have two or three if we're lucky."

“I’ll give you a whole litter if you want. Four or five or maybe even six if you want it. They’d make up an entire pack on your own and you’ll be our dear Alpha.” Stiles moans happily into his mate's neck, where his head is hanging limply. 

It isn’t long before Stiles drifts off into sleep, sending soft puffs of breath to Peter’s neck. 

A few minutes later, Stiles’s phone buzzes on his desk. Peter glances down at where the two of them connect, and it’s still a good half hour, he estimates, before they can separate safely. He picks the two of them up and spreads Stiles over his desk before picking up the phone. “Hello Sheriff. It’s Peter. I’m keeping an eye on Stiles for the time being, and he’s fallen asleep.”

There’s a bit of stunned silence as the Sheriff comprehends it. Peter waits patiently, and ignores the loud moan Stiles gives at the shift. The Sheriff doesn’t seem to notice and replies, “Oh. Well, good to know my son is fine. Aren’t you supposed to be at the clinic keeping an eye on Scott? I thought Malia said it was your turn.” 

“Did she? Perhaps she was talking about yesterday.” Peter massages Stiles’s pussy lips and gives a few thrusts. “I had yesterday night as my shift.”

Stiles quietly stirs but doesn’t awaken. Peter presses down on the raised belly, wondering if he can push down hard enough to feel his knot through it. His father coughs, “Oh, perhaps.”

He can't, which is disappointing but the way he can feel his cum inside and the way Stiles curls in with a pained moan is rewarding enough. He wishes the Sheriff good luck at his job and hangs up, alternating words and swipes across the boy's clit of increasing pressure. 

He settles the two of them on Stiles's bed, with him leaning his back against the wall and Stiles’s spread lewdly on and around him. He turns both their phones on silent.

In ten minutes, Stiles wakes up slowly to the two of them still knotted together and ravishes Peter with a sleepy kiss. He complains about the swelling and soreness he'll feel tomorrow and Peter pinches his nipples in response eliciting a sharp yelp.

In fifteen minutes, he misses 10 calls from Lydia, 6 from Deaton, 5 from Derek, 2 from Kira, 1 from Melissa and 8 from his Dad. It’s also at this time he’s panting and convulsing around Peter’s thrusting knot, the rough palming of his clit, and the tongue swirling on his nipple. Peter is, simultaneously, putting his werewolf hearing to good use and, picking out a voicemail for Stiles to hear first.

In twenty minutes, Stiles presses a tired thank you kiss to Peter's lips and listens to a new voicemail. He frowns at Lydia's shriek and checks his missed calls. His eyebrows furrow as Lydia's shrill plays on. It isn’t long before his eyes widen at the words and he slowly looks up at Peter with horror. 

Peter smiles lazily back. Stiles makes a tiny move at trying to untie the two of the but winces as pleasure rises up his spine. 

Peter closes his eyes to take the moment in. He bucks his hips up and enjoys the strangled gasp. Stiles’s tense body is wrapping them together even closer involuntarily.

Peter continues to smile and lets the red bleed into his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Evidently, I am a terrible judge of how much information is enough information, so for the many that are confused:
> 
> Peter told Malia that he could take over her shift, and killed Scott instead. When Deaton came back to administer the wolfsbane, they all found Scott dead, and Peter is now the Alpha. 
> 
> Basically, Peter is evil and an asshole.


End file.
